The Ghost Files 2 (The Ghost Files - Book 2) (9 page)

“Her mother tried to kill her?” Caleb asks, shocked.

“No wonder she’s the way she is,” their dad says softly. “What about her father?”

“She doesn’t know who he is,” Doc replies. “I know that her friend Dan is looking into her past to try and find her father for her.”

“Is that the same Dan she was talking about in her sleep?” Eli asks.

OH MY GOD! I was talking in my sleep? What did I say? No, no, no…this isn’t good.

“Yes,” Doc agrees. “They seem to be in a bit of an argument at the moment.”

“Sounded to me like he broke her heart,” Caleb says. “I was tempted to find him and break his face.”

I must have said some really personal stuff. My face has to be six shades of crimson right now.

“Really, Caleb?” Eli scoffs. “You’ve spoken to her for what, an hour at best?”

Caleb sighs. “It’s weird, but she’s…I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Caleb’s right,” their dad agrees. “I didn’t even speak to her, but I felt this sudden need to protect her. It gets stronger every time I’m near her. I think it’s because she looks a little like Amelia.”

Amelia? Who’s Amelia?

“You’re both crazy,” Eli laughs. “I have no urge to do anything when it comes to that she-cat, except stay out of her way.”

“You’re just pissed because she gave you the smack down!”

That’s a new voice, a little boy.

“Shut up, Benny!” Eli grouches. “I did not get a smack down.”

“So you don’t have a busted lip, black eye, and your forehead isn’t bleeding?”

“Benny, don’t antagonize your brother,” their dad says while trying not to laugh. “He can’t help the fact a girl beat him up.”

“She did not…she…” I hear the growl emanating from him and chuckle myself. He really is upset and trying to play it off as nothing.

“At least you got beat down by a pretty girl,” Ben says solemnly.

“Pretty?” Eli laughs harshly. “I don’t…”

I push open the door, cutting him off. I have no need to hear him talk about me after seeing myself in the mirror. I do look like an extra out of a zombie flick right now.

Five sets of eyes settle on me, making me want to squirm. They all look concerned, except for Eli. He looks pissed. I have no idea why I even care what he thinks, anyway.

“Hello, Mattie,” the boys’ dad smiles at me. “I’m James Malone and these are my sons, Eli, Caleb, and Benjamin.”

“Hi.” Ben smiles shyly up at me.

“Hi.” I grin back at him. He’s as cute as a button and can’t be more than seven or eight. He looks like Caleb, but he has Eli’s eyes. I could just pinch his cheeks he’s so cute. “I’m Mattie.”

“You’re pretty.”

“And you are working on being a heartbreaker.” I laugh and ruffle his soft hair.

“How are you, Mattie?” Doc asks. “Can you still hear the ghosts or are they completely gone?”

“It’s weird,” I say hesitantly, looking down at the floor. This isn’t something I’m used to talking about around strangers. “It’s like I can almost hear what they’re saying, but the volume is turned down so low I can’t make it out.”

“It worked, then.” James sighs, relieved. “We weren’t sure you’d still be able to hear them.”

“What did you do?” I ask curiously.

“I gave you a tattoo,” Eli says, a wicked grin on his face.

“A tattoo?” My hand immediately goes to the small of my back where it’s sore. I’d forgotten to check it in the bathroom.

“Eli inked you,” Caleb says, “but I designed it. It’s an old Druid protection spell that I just changed a little so you could still hear them, but they wouldn’t be able to overwhelm you.”

“Druid protection spell?” Even I can hear the disbelief in my voice. Come on, really? Magic? Magic isn’t real. Well, I’ll give Chris Angel the benefit of the doubt. Some of the stuff he can do…

“It’s designed to help you gain control over your abilities,” Mr. Malone says. “The voices will come back louder and louder as you learn to mute them yourself. The only design I knew would have completely stripped you of your abilities, but you were bleeding out and I was a little desperate. Caleb convinced me to try his design first before we did something so drastic. He’s very good at drawing them. He saved your abilities.”

I’m not sure I want him to have saved them. Not to be able to see and hear ghosts at every corner would have been a blessing. I could have been normal. I turn a glare upon the guy in question and he steps back from the vehemence in my stare.

“Ghost Girl doesn’t want to be Ghost Girl,” Eli guesses. “Normal ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, Hilda.” He grins at the nickname.

Hilda? Oh no, he did not just shorten Mathilda to that awful nickname. “Do you want me to black the other eye for you?”

“I’d like to see you try,” he counters, his eyes glowing with fury.

I take a step forward, but Caleb pulls me back. “Knock it off, Eli,” he warns his brother. “I’ll start calling you Elijah again if you don’t.”

“You always this hostile?” Eli asks me.

“Yeah, I am.” I glare at him. “Deal with it.”

“Why don’t we go downstairs and eat?” Doc interrupts before Eli and I come to blows again. “Mattie, you must be starving.”

Right on cue my stomach growls. Mention food and the bottomless pit opens its ugly mouth. I’m always slightly embarrassed by my stomach’s need to be so vocal.

Mr. Malone laughs when Ben’s belly starts complaining, too. “Let’s go, guys. I picked up some Popeye’s chicken before I came back.”

I’ve seen the commercials on TV for Popeye’s of course, but my fried chicken experience has been limited to KFC. My mouth waters just thinking about the Colonel’s fried chicken, causing my stomach to rumble loudly.

I follow Caleb down the stairs, with Eli right behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, knowing he’s watching me and I get the distinct impression his eyes are well below my waist, which in turn causes me to blush. I’m not at all comfortable with my reaction to this beautiful boy.

He is in fact too beautiful. It’s those that you have to watch out for. I do distinctly remember my mama warning me about them from the time I was old enough to understand what she was saying. It’s one of the few things I remember. Could be because I had several foster mothers say basically the same thing.

To try and distract myself, I look around at the house as we troop down the stairs. They are all hardwood and polished, the rail curved and stained in a darker color than the stairs. The walls along the stairs and in the main foyer have wallpaper on them, but it’s not cheap and gaudy like a lot of paper you see. It’s elegant and fits the old fashioned dark wood of the house.

The house doesn’t look like it’s in any kind of disrepair. Instead, the hardwood floors gleam and the furniture is well taken care of. The house screams old money to me. I remember Doc saying something about it being one of the most haunted houses he’d ever come across. I guess I just assumed it would be an old rundown house instead of the beautiful monument of a southern plantation it is. I have yet to explore the grounds, but I can’t wait. I love architecture and being here is like being a kid on Christmas morning, aside from the ghosts, anyway.

Mr. Malone had laid out a feast on the dining room sidebar. My stomach growls appreciatively, but I’m almost afraid to sit down. The upholstery on the dining room chairs look like the smallest stain would ruin the delicate material. The heavenly smell wafting up from the containers, however, make up my mind for me. I waste no time in grabbing a paper plate and a plastic fork before diving into the food. It feels like forever since I’ve eaten, even though I know I just had dinner with Dan last night.

Once everyone is seated, Mr. Malone says grace and I wait impatiently to dig in. The smell is divine. Once I see a chicken leg heading for Ben’s mouth I dive into my own food. A few minutes later I look up to see everyone staring at me in amusement. I know I’ve been gobbling food faster than a Nascar driver speeds down the track on race day, but still, it’s rude to stare.

“Gosh, you eat more than me,” Benny declares, eyes wide.

“I’m hungry,” I defend. “I haven’t eaten since last night.”

“Mattie, you were out for three days, honey,” Doc tells me.

“Three days?” I whisper.

Doc nods. “Yeah, you gave us all a scare. If you hadn’t woken up soon, I was going to take you to the hospital.”

“No more hospitals, thank you very much,” I mutter. “I just had my last surgery and I do not want to see the inside of one until I have to have my hands checked again.”

“What happened to your hands?” Caleb asks curiously, staring at the bandages.

“Nothing.” I sigh. I have no intention of going into that. Doc’s already blabbed enough about my personal life. They don’t need all the gory details. “So I assume you’re the guys with the Angel blood Doc was telling me about?”

Caleb nods. “Yeah. You’re not the only freak around.”

I frown. I hate people referring to me as a freak and I don’t like Caleb referring to himself as one, either. He’s not a freak.

“No, you’re not a freak,” I tell him. “Your brother, maybe, but not you.”

“Hey!” Eli snorts. “I’m no more a freak than the Ghost Girl.”

“Well, then I guess you don’t mind the lady whispering that you need to come visit her tonight, being used to it and all.”

“W…what?” Eli glances all around him. “Where?”

I roll my eyes. There is no phantom lady, but he doesn’t know that and I grin. This might actually be a fun.

“Yeah, I don’t think you want to take her up on the offer,” I tell him, working to keep my face straight. “She has a knife hidden behind her back.”

Eli jumps up, looking everywhere. “Get away, you evil hag!”

“You are so punked.” I laugh. “It’s not even cold in here, the first sign of a ghostly presence. I thought you were an expert.”

Caleb bursts out laughing and Benny snorts milk through his nose when he giggles. Both Doc and Mr. Malone give up and laugh outright.

Eli glares at us all and stomps out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping tears away. “I couldn’t help it.”

“He deserved it,” Caleb wheezes, trying to stop laughing. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in forever. Thanks, Mattie.”

“Okay, let’s finish up here,” Mr. Malone says between chuckles. “I’ll put Eli’s plate away and he can eat later.”

“I’ll take it to him,” I volunteer, regretting the words as soon as they leave my lips.

Mr. Malone raises his eyebrows.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I say. “The plate can be my olive branch.”

Mr. Malone nods. “I appreciate that, Mattie. It’s not often someone gets the best of my son and he’s reacting badly. He’s not normally like that.”

“I
am
normally like that.” I laugh, especially when I see Doc nod his head vigorously. “You either love me or hate me, no middle ground to be had.”

Mr. Malone gives me a look. “Amelia used to say that. You remind me of her.”

“Who’s Amelia?” I ask, remembering the earlier comment.

“She was my wife,” he tells me. “She died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I say automatically.

“Thanks, but it was a long time ago. She was Caleb’s mother. She and our baby died when they went off a cliff in an accident. We’ve moved on and I found my Heather, Ben, Ava and Eli’s mother. She raised Caleb and he thinks of her as his mom. Just seeing you, though, reminds me of her so much.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I pick up Eli’s plate and go find him. Lord only knows what this conversation is going to be like. I need to learn to stop putting myself in situations where I can’t control what happens.

But where would the fun in that be, the little devil on my shoulder whispers as I walk out of the room.

Chapter Eleven

Eli is nowhere to be found on the first floor, so I head outside. If I were pissed it’s where I’d go. I open the front door and step out. My mouth drops open. Oh, this can’t be good.

I am not standing on the front porch of the plantation—instead I’m stumbling through the forest, running for my life. I know this even as I try to figure out what’s going on. My side is in agony and I see blood on my fingers when I pull my hand away. I recognize the wound. I’ve been stabbed. Again. What is it with me and knives?

It’s cold and I’m barefoot. Rocks and twigs stab at my sore feet as I run and I try to make out the path I’m on. There’s only a small sliver of moonlight streaming through the canvas of trees above me. I hear footsteps behind me and run faster, knowing with utmost certainty that if he catches me, I will die.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears and I can hardly catch my breath as I stumble over more roots. He’s whistling behind me, knowing I can’t run much longer, not with the amount of blood I’ve lost. Anger burns through me, followed by despair. How can he do this? I loved him and he’s going to kill me. Tears sting my eyes and I brush them away, hating the weakness that washes through me.

My dress catches on something and causes me to fall. I try to get up, but he’s there in an instant. He pulls me up and in to him. His arms circle around my waist and for the barest moment I have hope, hope that he has given up on this madness, that he remembers he loves me, but that hope is dashed when I feel the knife press against me.

“Shh,” he whispers. “It will be over soon. I promise it will not hurt for long, my love, and I will be here with you.”

“Why?” I whisper, tears streaming unbidden now. I am lost, unable to run anymore and weak from blood loss. “I love you, why are you doing this?”

“What must be, will be,” he tells me.

“I cannot understand this!”

“You do not remember, Lucy, but I do.” His voice is a caress that strokes my skin and I shiver even now, knowing he means to kill me.

“What?” I beg him. “What is it I do not I remember?”

“You and I have danced this dance many, many times before,” he says, the knife pressing deeper into my skin. “We have fought since the beginning of life and it is our destiny to die, to atone for what we did.”

“What did we do?” I ask softly. He is mad. Truly mad.